


Persephone's throne

by Cornicello



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Child Abuse, Hell Fic, Kidnapping, M/M, Persephone - Freeform, Stiles-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-17 21:01:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2323031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornicello/pseuds/Cornicello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his short lived mortal life, Hades(Derek) makes Stiles his Queen during the absence of Persephone. Stiles died at sixteen after being beaten everyday for the past ten years and this time he isn't going to leave his brother behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He stopped praying for someone to come help him. It was useless, he screamed every night but no one would bother to hear. He prays every night that this is just a horrible nightmare, hoping that when he wakes up in the morning his mom will come and kiss away his fears. 

“Dad stop please!” He screams in agony, clawing at the cold cement to try to get away from the monster his father had become. It doesn't work, though since his father just keeps kicking him, beating him and whipping him with his leather belt. When he felt his rib crack he coughed up a big puddle of blood and his father finally stopped. 

“Bleeding on my floor you piece of shit. You’re gonna stay down here until you clean it up.” Stiles lays there completely numb of everything except pain. He briefly remembers his dad sliding the deadbolt on the door back upstairs then turned out the lights leaving him in a splash of red. 

Death was coming he could feel it, and he welcomed it. The angel that he’d been praying for to take him away finally came. 

“Are you,” He couldn’t finish, the more he tried the more blood he coughed up. 

“Shh, don’t speak.” The dark haired angel with raven wings knelt down beside him and wiped away a bit of blood from his mouth. The angel’s hand felt like cold relief and in a moment of searing pain he felt free, finally rid of the shackles that bound him. Stiles’ last memory of his short lived mortal life was Death spreading his wings, surrounding him.


	2. Chapter 2

A dark red ceiling high as the sky greeted his first sight. In a magnificent bed covered with fur pelts, he was in a room of a gothic styled castle. An arm was snaked around his waist and he turned into the owner of the arm, his angel. Midnight hair, raven wings, dark stubble all along his jaw, Stiles wasn’t sure but he wanted. His eyes ducked down immediately when the angel opened his eyes.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked kissing Stiles’ head then nudging his nose into his hairline sleepily.

“I did. Thank you.” The words were spoken gingerly and he didn’t realize it but he was shaking. The arm around his waist came up to hold his hand.

“I’ll send some servants to help you get dressed, we can talk about it later over dinner.”

With a peck on his forehead he exited through the two doors half as high as the ceiling. Distracted by his thoughts he let two male servants dress him in a tunic and a short mid thigh roman skirt. After sliding on his sandals he made his way down the halls with the lead of the servants. On a giant table the was covered with enough food to feed an army he was led to sit down next to the angel.  
“You must be hungry.”

“Sorry.” He apologized meagerly eyes dropping down to his lap again. The angel frowned and tilted Stiles chin up.

“You don’t have to be sorry. Let’s eat.” Stiles smiled weakly for a moment and nodded when his thoughts caught up with him. Something he read about before strangely resembled this.

“You’re not eating,” The angel comments after a frown is etched on Stiles face.

“May I ask where I am?” A little taken by the question the angel answers after raising a brow

“You are in my home.”

“And who might you be? Dressed in such brilliant attire living in such a...magnificent castle. Not to mention the raven wings on your back.” Hades applauded, clapping slowly.

“Intelligent Indeed.” We waved and a servant came over carrying a crown set with rubies resting on a pillow.

“Stiles your string has been cut by the three fates. According to the rules of our world I have to throw you into the river Styx, but I don’t want to waste that clever mind of yours.”

“You have a Queen, Hades.” He laughed at the comment.

“Persephone is nothing but an arraignment, and honestly she is very dull, takes after her father rather than Demeter. She has ridiculous outbursts of tantrums and only stays here for six months, four of those months she spends ignoring everyone.”

“You can’t keep me here. I may have died but my brother is still alive, and any day he isn’t dead my abusive father is going to torture him.” Hades shook his head.

“There is nothing you can do. You are dead, Stiles. If it weren’t for the interest I had taken to you, your soul would have long been in the river rotting away.”

“Then what can I do! I can’t just stand by while I know that my brother is probably being beaten to a bloody pulp this very second. If my father can take my life why can’t he take Isaac’s?”

Hades took a sip of honey wine from his goblet, and swished the liquor around. “You’re a smart person, think of something.” Stiles took a deep breath eyes narrowing as he softly dozed off into a thought.

“Do you fancy me?” Hades grinned.

“I do.”

“Do you wish for me to stay with you?”

“I do.”  
Stiles held up his goblet. “I want to make you a deal, Hades. I will...give myself to you as payment for exchange to be able to see my brother and watch over him. I also understand that you have a Queen, and I do wish for any title but pardon me but once and leave me with my dignity.”

Satisfied with Stiles’ answer Hades picked a red fleshed plum and held it to his pale pink lips. “And you realize that once our contract has been forged there is no changing or breaking of the deal?” Stiles nodded but Hades narrowed his eyes then continued to speak.

“I need to hear say those words Stiles. Say it.”

There was a hesitation, but Stiles looked up into the immortal’s eyes. “I understand the deal can’t and won’t be broken.”  
Hades mouth drew into a cunning smile and nudged at Stiles lips a but with the fruit. The soon to be immortal took his first bite of hell’s food and swallowed the sweet flesh. Head dipping down Hades kissed him licking up the red juice. Taking this chance he stood up and moved closer to Stiles, arm snaking around him again.

“Was that your first kiss?” He asked, Stiles out of breath and feeling butterflies everywhere nodded eyes closed. Hades brushed his palm across Stiles’ ass under his short tunic skirt and with a moan Stiles instinctively pressed himself closer into him.

“Hades,” He whispered breathlessly being kissed again.

“Derek.”

“What?” 

“My name, it’s Derek.” He teased Stiles’ virgin hole making it wet and quiver as he kissed wet kisses into his neck.

“Derek,” He moaned as he was being shaped like clay in his hands, when Derek picked him up whole, wrapping the younger boy’s legs around his waist.

“Say it again,” He into the whiskey eyes, lining up his hard cock with Stiles’ heat nudging it.  
“Derek, ah!” He screamed when the tip slid in, the rest going in inch by inch. He’d never felt anything like this before, the pain of the stretch but pleasure of being full with a man’s cock.

“It hurts.” He asked groaned with frustration trying to push Derek’s cock deeper into him.  
“Do you want me to go slower?”   
“No.” He said through clenched teeth. On command Derek started to ram into him again and again ruthlessly hitting his prostate every time making them both see stars. Neither of them lasted long, and as Stiles shot his cum between their chests, Derek came deep inside him marking him. With Stiles facing him still sitting on his lap, Derek rested down back in his chair. Grabbing a knife from the table he cut a line across his wrist, holding the wound to Stiles’ mouth.

“Drink.” Stiles looked unsure but something wild and lustful drove him to do as Derek commanded, lapping up all the red. When Derek pulled his wrist away he rested his thumb on the boy’s lips, deep red and his fair cheeks smeared with blood, Stiles’ eyes fluttering open with only the slightest reflection of the gleaming fireplace behind them.

“You’re mine now.” Derek said as he kissed him again, slow and passionate instead of the previous aggression. Stiles rested his head on Derek’s shoulder, turning into the crook of his neck.

“Forever.” He agreed drifting off into a paradise he’d never had before.


	3. Chapter 3

In a bath as big as a pool, Stiles soaked letting out a long breath. The steamy water drew out all the tension from his muscles that’s been aching for the past two days. His rib healed, and his scars from all the years of whipping were completely gone “Reborn” Derek had called it. A servant girl named Beth quickly became his personal lady in waiting, and they often spoke to each other about their past lives as she tended to Stiles who was now coronated as Queen minor of Hades.

“I remember when I was a child in grade I would read about all these myths, never thought they were true let alone be here. I would just love to meet Athena, I wonder what kind of wisdom she would bestow upon me. Push a little harder on my shoulders.” Beth tentatively applied pressure with her thumb and Stiles relaxed before suddenly crying out with a spike of pain, groaning.

“Your majesty I’m sorry!” Stiles turned around to face Beth, right hand trying to reach the pained spot from over his shoulder.

“Ah!” He screamed, breathing deeply “My back, between my shoulders! It hurts!” Other guards and servants quickly came running in response to the agonizing sounds. A handful of guards seized Beth and the rest sided to Stiles’ side. Two long claw like wounds drew down Stiles’ back between his shoulder blades bleeding into the water.

“Call the King!” several people yelled. Tearing, crunching sounds erupted through the room. The sound of bones grinding together was horrifying, and Derek entered to see the pair of bloody wings spread as Stiles silenced with a phantom wail falling forward into the water. Derek rushed into the water and brought Stiles’ into his arms, cradling him like a bride. Emerging from the water the red of the new pair wings washed off revealing snow white feathers, each one lined with gleaming gold.

“Let Beth go. It wasn’t her fault.” The guards let go of the girl scared to death.

“Beth, come with me.” She trampled over her own feet and scurried along side the King and Queen. Down the hall as they approached, the two doors opened and Beth laid out numerous towels to dry him. Derek sat on the bed keeping Stiles face towards him as he lifted him up, so that Beth can dry and inspect the wounds.

“Your majesty there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong at all. Any wound that was previously there is already gone.” They both lie on the bed now, Derek on his back and Stiles on his belly to not hurt his wings.

“You may go now. And tell no one of this.”

“But your majesty, Queen Persephone’s brother will visiting in a fortnight.”

“Then you will continue to tell no one. You are dismissed Beth.” He commanded draping a sheet over them both, running his hand through Stiles’ ceasar cut hair. In these past two days he had spent with his new Queen, he learned to smile again. He knows that he’ll have to deal with Zeus and all of his other siblings when they find out what he’s done but it’ll be worth it. For now all he can do his drape his arm around Stiles’ waist and keep him safe.

When Stiles awoke, he naked like always when he rose from bed. Confusion clouded his mind, about what happened in the baths and how he came to bed. Planting both his feet on the ground he took a step and completely lost balance falling face first on the cold marble floor. He felt a weight he’d never had before on his back and looking at the large egg shaped brass mirror on the wall in front of him to see two large wings on his back.

“Oh my god!” He struggled to stand up still and not fall, and turned slightly to look at his gold tipped wings. In the mirror Derek awoke and walked over to him, revealing his own raven wings.

“Hey,” Derek kissed a trail for his ear to his shoulder.

“It’s a little hard at first, but you’ll get your balance back.” Stiles turned around, Derek practically holding him up.

“I have wings? Why do I have wings?” Derek looked at him brows raised for a moment then sighed, dropping his head.

“I turned you.” He blurted out of the blue after a long silence.

“You what me!” Derek didn’t think it was possible but Stiles screamed louder than Persephone, only he was worse because Stiles had fist banging into every inch of Derek’s body he could hit.

“Stiles, wait.” He said calmly at first but then he yelled it a second time and Stiles still breathing hard, glaring daggers at him.

“This is a gift, Stiles. I shared with you something I’ve never shared with anyone. My blood runs through your veins now, you’re not just a little mortal being anymore, you’re half a god.”

“So I’m not Stiles anymore?” water began to well up in his eyes.

“You are. You’re still you, just ...now you’re more. You’re stronger now.” The reaction that came was completely unexpected. Stiles struggled to take full breaths, then cried fully as Derek herded them both back to the bed. Taking a wavering breath Stiles palmed his forehead and ran his hand through his hair.

“This is pointless.” Stiles muttered getting up on his own, starting to pace around the bed.

“I made this deal with you so I may watch over and protect my brother, and now that I am Queen I sit here with you never ageing a day as the years pass while I must witness my brother grow old and wither away. A gift,” Stiles laughs with misery “This gift you give me is my worst fear come true. You bring me to your underworld and then sentence me to hell, how is that a gift?”

Derek sat dumbfounded, listening to Stiles, his Queen weep. Never in his eternal life had he ever thought about how someone else would feel. He’d been arrogant since the beginning, it’s the very reason why Zeus gave him the throne of the underworld where we would be away from all the gods on Olympus. He remembers taking Zeus’ daughter Persephone out of spite just so he could get back at him, but now saw the whole picture, and it was horrifying.

“I’m sorry.” The words were so foreign in Derek’s mouth, in fact he is sure that he’s never said it to anyone dead or alive. He felt so hurt and wondered why, when he wasn’t the one who was being upset.

“Get dressed,” Stiles looked up wiping away the wet trails formed on his cheeks.  
“Why?”  
“I promised you the freedom of coming and going as you please. Like you said your brother Isaac isn’t safe, you should go back and look after him.” Nodding, he called Beth and Derek left the room in a robe.

Stiles let himself be dressed in his tunic then raised his arms so that another servant girl could put on his breastplate as Beth fastened the the pteruges. I the mirror, he looked rather skimpy due to the short length of his skirt. Just as his sandals were being put on Derek re-entered the room wearing similar attire, the only difference being design prints on the breastplate and colours. Stiles was dressed in brown leather and white with red trim while Derek wore complete black with the exception of the armour.

“Remember, when you want to come back just spread your wings and think of here.” Derek spread placed Stiles’ arms around his neck and his own around the white winged angel’s waist. With the one flutter of his raven wings they flew off, landing in the moonlit backyard of the Lahey house. Stiles let go and made his way to the back door, when Derek called.

“Stiles, be safe.” Derek walked up to Stiles and dipped down to his lips, pausing he moved to his forehead instead. “I am sorry,” He looked so apologetic, kind of like a lost puppy like Scott when he apologized. Stiles nodded and gave him a weak hug then disappeared into the house.


	4. Chapter 4

Stepping into the dark house quietly, he looked around taking in the scene. The kitchen was a mess, glass shattered all over in the corner. Looking at the clock’s glowing face, he realized that his father was at work, and continued to go find his brother. Ascending the stairs he peered into his room, the memories of that night still lingering there. He allowed his hand to ghost across the pen and unfinished homework, nightmares of his last day as a mortal surfaced.

On the fateful night upon hearing the shattering of a dish, Stiles whipped his head to the direction of the door. Screams echoed up the staircase, and Stiles dropped his pen rushing downstairs into the kitchen to see Isaac crying as their father struck him across the face.

“Dad, stop!” He rushed forward attempting to stop his father but instead was pushed back onto the dining table, his back making a deafening crack.

“Yeah, you wanna be the hero? You’re gonna get twice as fucking hard.”

“Dad, no I’m Sorry!” He barely breathed before his father threw Isaac across the floor and grabbed Stiles by the collar hauling him into the basement. The hand that tugged and dragged his collar drew tight around his neck, by now he was struggling to breathe. Standing on the middle of the staircase his dad threw Stiles down the steps, tumbling down until he hit his head on the cold concrete.

A leather belt made the sound of breaking wind, and his pale skin burned leaving behind a nasty welt.

“You think just because you’re the big brother, you’re gonna stand up to me and protect the damn baby? Well let me tell you something, you act like a brat and you’re gonna get beat like a brat.” He threw his belt on the floor then started to kick his son mercilessly, every blow aiming for his upper torso and didn’t stop until blood spilled all over the floor.

Stiles drew back from his thoughts taking a deep breath then moved into the room across the hall, Isaac’s room. Opening the door the window was open, curtains drifting side to side from the night wind, on the bed his younger brother slept curled up with one of Stiles's pea coats. The bed dipped a little when Stiles came forward to sit down as he looked at his little brother’s red face with salty lines of dried tears. Brushing away a stray curl of blonde hair he wondered how things ever got this bad, how the man that sired them turned into a monster that abused them. 

Stiles sighed with relief when he saw no bruises on Isaac, and raked his fingers through his wing and plucked out a loose feather placing under Isaac’s pillow.  
“I’ll always be here for you. I am so sorry I had to leave you.” He whispers, kissing his forehead.

“From the moment we spent nine months together in the same womb, to the day we were born, till now I have loved you so much. Don’t ever forget me or think that I left this world blaming you, because I don't. I never could. If anyone is to blame, blame the gods for weaving our threads into this cruel bitter tapestry.”

He took a moment to wipe his tears and compose himself, then reorganized the books on the shelf, and cleaned the room and the house. Before he left Stiles closed the window in Isaac’s room and drew the curtains halfway. Stepping out onto the roof just outside the window he spread his wings, and flew off into the night.

The crisp air carded through his hair and his wings, clearing his mind. He flew endlessly but eventually he perched at the edge of the Beacon cliffs, and stared out into the dim lit city. Isaac always enjoyed the stars as a boy, the majestical crystals that hung suspended in the sky. As of now those twinkling things in the sky gave him no solace at all. A soft growl came and a black wolf came close behind him dipping his head down, whimpering.  
“Derek?” The black wolf trudged closer and nosed at Stiles’ arm, herding the boy into a cuddling position where Derek wrapped himself around him.

“You have a lot of guts coming to see me when I haven’t forgiven you.” He rested his big wolf head on his two crossed front paws, and huffed a sigh.

“He was my father Derek.” Stiles spoke numbly, carding his hand through Derek’s fur.“He was my world, and he never even loved me. That night, the night I died, do you know why he kicked me to death? It was because Isaac broke a dish and I tried to stop it. He didn’t even plan a funeral for me, just tore the cement in the basement then threw in my body wrapped in a tarp.”

Tired of crying and sulking he cuddled up to the giant wolf, and closed his eyes hoping for a new day. Early the next day, Stiles flew back to the Lahey house to watch over his brother, make sure he got to school safe. He felt a little better when Scott joined Isaac, walking to school together.

“Where’s Stiles? I haven’t seen him the whole weekend.” Isaac’s heart rate peaked and struggled to tell a lie.

“He went to go visit our aunt. Yeah, she’s really sick and my Dad can’t leave because of his job.” Skeptical and confused Scott just nodded and kept walking. During school nobody seemed to notice he was missing, not the students, not the bullies, not even the teachers. A little pain in his chest grew when he saw Isaac sit alone at a lunch table, shedding a tear or two. How were you even supposed to feel when you lose a sibling? On the verge of bursting, Isaac picked up his books and walked out of the cafeteria heading towards one of the empty bathrooms.

Stiles watched as Isaac huddled himself on the ground against the tile wall, both hands on the sides of his head trying to keep whatever small amount of sanity he had left. He couldn’t let Isaac know he was here, but reason tended not to matter in the presence of emotion. 

“Isaac,” He stepped closer and crouched down,speaking softly with watery eyes. 

“Stiles?” Isaac looks up with grief and disbelief, eyes wide and maybe just a little broken. Stiles sits down by him and drags him into a hug, both clinging onto each other like they would never meet again.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault, I’m so sorry.” Isaac chants for forgiveness, something that his big brother never wanted to hear.

“Isaac, it’s not your fault he-”

“I killed him.” The words silenced Stiles. He slowly drew back from the hug and gripped both of Isaac’s shoulders,

“Isaac you killed Dad? How? What happened what did you do?”

“That night, after he killed you, he. He buried you underneath the concrete. This morning, he. He came into my room and told me to go back to sleep. He said everything was okay and then he tried to strangle me in my bed.” Isaac coughed, still crying.

 

“I was so scared, I didn’t know what to do. Before I even knew it I grabbed the knife that Camden hid behind my bed and I stabbed him.” He’d never seen his little brother so scared before, so lost in the world.

“I did such a bad thing. I killed Dad” Isaac whimpers holding himself tighter, “Do you hate me?”

“No.” Stiles holds Isaac tight again, and spreads his wings.

“Isaac, I’m going to take you with me alright? I’m going to take us to a place where no one will ever hurt you again. Do you trust me?” 

“I do.” He holds on tighter to Isaac then flaps his wings.


	5. Chapter 5

Derek strongly doubted that anyone could tell him what he was feeling right now, this frustration that brought comfort. Like a rose growing in his heart, the thorns were scratching him up on the inside while the bloomed flower gave his eyes pleasure. He really refused to believe that his sister’s son Ero’s could have shot an arrow at him, the last time Derek had seen his nephew he’d been whoring around mortals just like his mother. Looking over Stiles’ recorded mortal life over and over again, didn’t help any of these feelings, just made it worse. A loud knocking at the chamber doors came

“Your Majesty, it is Beth.” She calls from behind the still closed doors. Closing up the book Derek straightens himself up in his chair.

“If it has nothing to concern with the Queen, then you will report to my groom.”

“Your majesty, his highness the Queen has returned and is currently waiting in the Dining Hall.” Derek drops the book on the desk and rushes out of his study to the Dining Hall, every step followed by Beth. Upon entering the arch that marks the entrance to the hall, he see’s the gilded snow white wings of the Queen.

“Stiles,” Embraced in a firm hug, the figure hidden behind Stiles’ wings came clear.

“Derek this is my younger brother, Isaac.” The man or rather a boy really who sat in front of Derek, looked pale and skinny, not the usual bulk of others his age. His blond curls shined in contrast to his Queen’s own brunette locks, if he hadn’t been informed before hand he would never have thought they were siblings.

“Derek I need to speak to you, Alone.” Taking one more glance at Isaac, Derek nods and leads them just a little out of the blonde’s sight.

“Stiles, did something happen?” He questions with deep concern. His Queen looked troubled with emotional turmoil, eyes darting everywhere and biting his lip.

“Derek, Something… has happened and honestly I’m not quite sure if it’s a good thing or bad thing. Isaac killed our father.” Derek’s eyes widened,

“You should speak to him, help him. He’s scared to death right now about what happened and is he didn’t break down before I’m worried he’s going to soon.” Stiles continues. Nodding again he and Derek make his way back. Sitting in his chair Derek begins to question about what happened.

“Isaac, I need you to tell me everything that happened. I need to know everything in order to keep you from being punished.” Taking a deep breath, Isaac takes a deep breath and holds on to his elder brother’s hand tightly.

“I, I got a low grade on a test. Dad, he… He threw a glass at me, and then I got so scared I dropped a dish.” The poor boy took another shaking breath.

“Then Stiles came down when he started hitting me. It’s my fault, Dad dragged him into the basement, because he tried to defend me. When Dad came back up he made me clean up the kitchen and then he locked me in the closet.The next morning, when Dad told me to go get Stiles I found him dead in the basement. I didn’t know what to do and and then Dad grabbed an axe and started tearing up the concrete. He made me dig a hole to hide his body. He said if I told anyone, then he would put me in there with him alive.”

Isaac cried fully now, not able to hold it back anymore, and Stiles as his brother listened with a pained heart. He never liked it when Isaac cried, it always made his heart crumble to see that his brother was hurting and he could do nothing about it.

“He didn’t talk to me at all the next day. And then, this morning he,” wiping away tears from his red splotchy face, “He tried to strangle me in my bed. Camden kept his knife on the side of my bed frame, and I stabbed him without even knowing what I was doing. I got so scared I didn’t know what to do.”

Derek leaned in and took Isaac’s left hand in his own, “Isaac wheres the body?”  
“In, in my room. He’s still in my room.” Moving his hand to Isaac’s neck he still clearly sees browning bruises wrapping around his pale skin.

“Beth.” He calls,

“Escort the Queen and his brother to the guest chamber, prepare a goblet of lotus tea.” 

“Derek, can Isaac and I go to the chamber and rest?” Derek kissed Stiles hand and nodded, nudging them in the direction of the guest chamber. He watched as the two walked away, Stiles’ arm wrapped tightly around Isaac’s shoulders. As of now he needs to do what’s right for a change, but first he needs to think.


	6. Chapter 6

“Drink this. It’ll help sooth the pain, forget the agonizing memories.” The lotus tea Beth brewed made Isaac sleep like a baby again, a peaceful privilege that both brothers had been deprived of for what seemed like forever. As he Isaac sleeps Beth sits near at a harp playing a lullaby.

“Beth, take me to see him.”Stiles blurts suddenly. A note falters from the song,

“Your majesty,”

“Beth,I know that you know where he is. Tell me.” He says very calmly in a pleading tone. Beth lets her fingers stop and slide down the strings,

“He’s in the dungeons”  
“Take me to him.” The dungeons were no place for any soul, living or dead. Cell after cell of notorious people locked in their own minds, tortured by their own demise. At Stiles’ request he was brought to the cell where Wesley Lahey was being held. Stepping into the small barred space he approached the man sitting in the corner.

“Hello Father.” The look in the eyes of Wesley was just hollow, nothing else was there except hatred and the shell of his former self.

“No. It can’t be you’re dead, I buried you in the basement.” he speaks confident and sane.  
“Yes, I have you to thank for that Father. I am Queen now.”

“What do you want?” Wesley spits out.

“Answers.” Beth brings a chair and Stiles takes a seat, Beth by her side and flanked by two guards.

“I remember as a child I adored you. You are my father and I looked up to you everyday in every single way, you were my hero. When did all this madness begin? What drove you to beat your children, and eventually kill your own son? After you took my life how could you even have thought of killing Isaac too?”

Stone cold emotions set on Wesley’s face, perhaps trying to hide something.  
“Answer me!” Stiles demands. After no answer, both guards dart their spears at the older Lahey’s throat.

“His majesty the Queen has asked you a question, and you will answer it.” warned the bigger bearded guard menacingly.

“Fine, I’ll answer your question. You.” He accuses. “You wrecked my family, Your mother and that damn cop sneaking around behind my back.”  
“What are you talking about.”  
“You don’t think I tried loving you? Oh, I tried, I tried to believe you were my son but then with every fucking year that passes you start to look more and more like that bastard Stilinski. I raised you for twelve years ignoring the fact that you aren’t mine, because you were Claudia’s and you know what, that was good enough. But then you started getting into trouble with the other boys at school, and your whore of a mother left the night Camden was shipped off for war.”

“Growing up, you were my father. I loved you.” Stiles bites out struggling not to break in front of the man who gave him so much emotional turmoil.

“Yeah, then why didn’t you make me proud like Camden? Fucking faggot, bending over for your baseball coach. You and Isaac are both nothing but sissy faggot twins, Stilinski’s bastard pups.” Wesley’s words stung and burned more than the pain he endured the night he died.

“How could you say that!” He yells at the top of his lungs, tears starting to fall as he rises from his chair. “That man used and abused me, made my life a horror show and instead of protecting your kid you beat me! You can beat me but how can you beat Isaac? He’s never disobeyed you or even told a single lie! I may not be your son but Isaac is, he is the spitting image of you and Camden.”

“The only son I have is Camden.” He replies coldly, like monster without a heart.

“You Bastard!” He finally breaks drawing back his fist. Before he could strike someone stops him, taking hold of his fist.

“Stiles, enough.” Derek says authoritatively, as Stiles prys himself from his grip turning back to the prisoner.

“You! What ever remaining pity I had for you is now gone! You can be torn to shreds by the Cerberus then burn for all eternity for all I care.” He spits out angrily marching out of the dungeon then runs his way back to the inner chambers of the Palace. Out of breath he stops abruptly leaning on a clustered column crying quietly, then screams with rage pounding against the stone, as he accepts the reality of Wesley’s words.

“Stiles,” Stiles smacks and punches Derek as he tries to take him into a hold screaming and kicking with an undying rage. When Derek finally gets Stiles still, he rests his head on his shoulder and lets out an eternity of tears kept locked away since he was twelve.


End file.
